


don’t fear the reaper

by deere



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Canon Rewrite, F/M, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, like fully endgame spoilers, might be ambiguous female wol idr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deere/pseuds/deere
Summary: she had become like they are.-a short rewrite of the fateful scene at the top of a fallen city, the bottom of the ocean.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch & Warrior of Light
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	don’t fear the reaper

a wise man once told her that you could accept your fate, or defy it... but you could not deny it. 

and so hades’ hood fell, wisps of hair falling back with it. he never looked more human than in that moment, she thought. at his most vulnerable, accepting death as it came to him. what else was there for him to do? 

warm gold eyes asked something of her. it was unspoken, with such little time left, but she could read it as if it lived inside her mind. and so her feet carried her, body responding before the rest of her could think. 

when she came to a stop in front of him, she watched a gloved hand lift slowly, claws glinting in the sunshine pouring over the broken, dreary land he once called home. she couldn’t imagine what her face read as, in the moment, because she couldn’t even pretend to know how to feel. but his gaze was calm as he held his hand up for her, familiar mischief and cunning long lost from the pools of honey watching her, dripping with meaning. 

it wasn’t until she lifted her own hand that she realized she was trembling. she shook like a leaf in his wake, as if he even had the time to spare, the  _ energy _ to pay back her irreversible damage, struck plainly into his chest. her gaze flicked from his to his wound, and back again, silently. he didn’t flinch. he only reached for her. 

their fingers intertwined without a second thought, and though she touched him, he didn’t feel tangible, somehow. she knew that he was already out of reach. she had to wonder how she felt to him, in these last moments. did she feel more real than he thought she could? more whole, more powerful than he realized? did he want to remember her as she was, or what she’s become? 

did his heart ache as terribly as her own?

“... remember.”

his one request. spoken so quietly, she briefly wondered if it was meant only for her. 

“remember us. remember… that we once lived.”

why did tears blur her vision now? this was her handiwork, her burden to bear. she didn’t deserve to feel this way. to cry before him, to mourn his loss and his people. not after all she’s done to eradicate them. like rats infesting her home. like a poison that needed to be purged. it wasn’t their fault. it wasn’t their fault,  _ it wasn’t their— _

wiping her tears with her free hand, she nodded, because it was all she could do. holding her gaze with him, weak and vulnerable as she felt, she wanted him to know. she wanted him to know that she knew, that she understood. that she’d never forget him, or his request, or the world he’d shown her through his own eyes. she’d avenge his world’s memory with her last dying breath. 

and he  _ smiled _ . that infuriating man. he only smiled in response— a smile more genuine than any he’s offered his entire time in her presence. 

he should be  _ angry _ . he should be  _ sad _ . he should  _ hate _ her, should want to see her and everything she loves dead on the pavement beside her. he should want to watch her world burn, unable to be saved by it’s precious  _ warrior of light, _ for once. he should want revenge. 

but he doesn’t. if he does, he doesn’t show it. and she’s briefly left to wonder if it’s a fate he couldn’t even bare to wish on his worst enemies. 

she doesn’t register the hands he pushes toward her face. she’s barely caught up by the time he presses his lips into her own, as gently as a lover would. but when she does feel him, she  _ feels _ him— and suddenly she’s completely overcome by the emotion that floods through her, entirely unreadable but as strong and deep as the ocean. 

she’s suddenly loved this man for thousands and thousands of years, known every inch and corner of his soul, and has never known anything different. though it’s only the first time their lips have met, she responds in a way that implies experience and knowledge beyond her comprehension. and she feels like she’s kissed him a million times when she breaks apart from him, eyes fluttering open to meet his. 

but all too soon she’s brought back to reality. when she meets his golden gaze, she’s back to the start— they’re atop the city, and he’s holding on by a thread. and his fingers slip through her grasp, and he’s pulling away, and all she can think is no, no,  _ please,  _ **_stop—_ **

fingers stretch out, but they’re not fast enough. aether disperses from where she touches him, fading out against the backdrop of sky and sun. by the time her eyes travelled to the rest of him, he was fading, fading. his time had ran out. 

and all she had left to do was watch. 

her gaze didn’t leave the place he had stood even as the last of him withered into the fading daylight, leaving her nothing but the broken city to watch over, still and silent. she didn’t register the slow footsteps approaching her from behind— not until she felt a warm body flank her, fingers slipping between her own and replacing the spaces he previously held. she didn’t have to look to know, when she was greeted with the scent of his sweat and rust, felt his chestplate when she turned her face into his chest. she wouldn’t let them see her cry. she couldn’t. 

the crystalline hand that grasped her other was just as easy to recognize, though with it came the question of whether to address him now or later. she knew her duties, her title, their past and friendship begged an answer  _ now—  _ but her heart had enough. she felt fit to burst. she only hoped he could understand.

he didn’t say a word. g’raha’s head fell into her shoulder, and thancred’s hand lifted to pull her head closer, and she felt her trembling knees buckle under the weight of their support. her fall to the ground wasn’t abrupt or ungraceful— they both caught her long before she was in any danger of hurting herself, led her down carefully, and wrapped her in faces, arms, bodies.

though they couldn’t protect her from what she’d done, or what she’d seen, or felt— they could protect her from herself. 

or, at the least, they could try. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally written for my wol, but when i finished i realized there were little to no descriptors on her end. so if u inserted ur wol and felt sumthin... thank u for dropping by


End file.
